Extra, Extra Read all about: Picture Perfect
by Reece Ashton Everheart
Summary: What if the newsboys weren't the only ones who fought against Pulitzer? What if they had help from an unexpected source? Newsgirls. And what if they all fell in love with a newsgirl? Main charactersxOC's. Bad summary, good story. Part one of Extra, Extra Read all about:...


Picture Perfect

**Chapter 1**

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A light could be seen from a lodge house window somewhere in Manhattan, New York, as a young teen, roughly fourteen-years-old, yawned and continued to sketch their drawing. The clock in the lodge read two-thirty in the morning.

"Yeesh, I'se guess I should go ta bed!" a Manhattan accent leaked through their words and they look at their finished drawing. "What! Where did dat come from?" they asked themselves, startled. In it, was a picture of a dark tan skinned boy, about two years older than the artist, with short black curly hair and chocolate brown eyes. They sighed, "I guess it's dat cute newsie boy again. Damn it! Bits **was** right, I'm hung up on 'im." They blew out their candle and fell asleep.

Next morning, the cries of the newsies broke the silence of the air. The lone teen walked down to Central Park and set up their stand. A handmade sign stood propped up against a bench. It read, "Portraits: 5 cents." They started to set up their pre-made samples when a mother and her daughter came up.

"Five cents? **Five** cents? What do you street rats think us hard working families are made of, **money**?" shrieked the mother.

The teen sighed, this was the third time this week that a family had critizied their price. It wasn't their fault that they did have enough money to buy food like the rich hoity-toities did. "How about I lets you pick da price? Is dat okay miss?" they asked. "Or I could lowa it fer youse ta two cents, if youse wants," they offered. The woman nodded stiffly and allowed her young daughter to sit on the bench. A minute later and the teen allowed the child to get down. A few seconds after that, the artist showed the woman the finished portrait.

"Maybe I was wrong about you," the woman said gently. "Here is 10 cents." The artist protested. "Oh but I insist!" said the woman. The teen thanked her profusely and when they had left, sat on the bench. They scanned something to draw. Their eyes landed on the newsboys, of all ages, goofing off. The laughed, shook their head, and started to sketch the scene in front of them.

"Oi, you? Look out!" a voice called out minutes later. The artist looked up to see a young boy, about ten, hurtling towards them. They cringed on the impact and then groaned when they saw their drawings scattered all over the ground.

"Are youse okay?" asked the boy. They nodded, suddenly two brown shoes appeared and the artist looked up. Standing in front of them, was the very same person they had been drawing last night. The newsie was holding onto one of their drawings. At another glance, the artist almost laughed aloud. It was the scene they had just saw moments ago. In it, around four or five newsies were throwing around a news cap while the owner, an Italian looking boy, was yelling at them. It was so artistically drawn that some of the newsies, while looking at it, thought it would replay right on the page.

"Did 'chu do dis jest a few minutes ago?" asked the Italian boy, who was nicknamed Racetrack, after they had all looked at it. The artist shrugged, paused, and then nodded. Everyone but Race laughed. He picked up another portrait and the artist blushed and groaned when they saw which one it was. It was the one they had sketched the night before.

"Hey Mush!" called out a boy with an eye patch. His name was Kid Blink. "I tink de artist heah has found some real talent in us!" he started to mock them while everyone else laughed. "Do you want a nickel fer dat oh great ahrtist?" The others laughed harder, save the boy who knocked into her, Les, the boy called Mush, and a boy with a cowboy hat, Jack, around his neck. This artist reminded him of when he had met Mush. Suddenly, the wind blew the rest of the drawings away. The artist tried to go after them, but the eye patch kid signaled two others to hold them back. When the sketches blew into the pond, the artist cried, "No!" The boys were shocked because the artist's hat blew along with them. It was a newsie hat, they realized, and it had revealed long black hair, tan skin, almost as dark as Mush's, and jade green eyes.

"Youse is, youse is a goil!" shouted the eye-patched kid.

"And chu betta run unless chu want anudda eye patch you bastah'd!" screamed the girl as she lunged for Blink, but was held back by Jack who whirled her around to face him.

"Hey, hey, enough! We'se can buy you new stuff, how much did it cost ya?" he asked.

The girl looked at him skeptically, "Chu can by me two dolla's woith of stuff?" The newsies started yelling and protesting to her and Jack.

"Two dollah's?" asked Jack.

The girl nodded, "Dat's how much it costed meh!" When she saw the glares she sighed and spoke tiredly, "Look, if I don't get me stuff, I don't sell an' sketch poitraits, and if I don't sell poitraits, I don't make money, which means I don't eat." The newsies looked at her sympathetically.

"Well, youse could try yer hand at sellin' papes," offered Mush. She bit her lip and he blushed a little. _Damn, when she does dat, I jest wanna kiss 'er_ he thought. He blinked in shock. _Wait, did I jest tink dat? I don't even know 'er!_

"Hmm. I guess I could, I mean I've done it befoh," she decided slowly. The boys cheered and Mush slung his arm around her. She blushed as he did this.

"We'll go ta Tibby's an' intraduce ya ta all da boys!" announced Jack.

"Um, one question, da people at da place I'm stayin' at right now don't like ta git up in da mornin' an' I don't want ta wake dem up early. So where can I stay fer right now?" she asked. They were now standing outside of Tibby's.

"Chu could stay wit us," suggested Mush, his arm still around her. She nodded and they walked into Tibby's.

"Well look who decided ta show up. If it ain't Jack be nimble, Jack be quick!" called out a teasing voice. "an' whose da pretty dame chu picked up, Mush?"

"Spot, meet- uh, what's yer name anyways?" asked Jack.

"Chu can call meh Sketch, but me full name is Reagan Sketch Mare," she said.

"Well den, I'm Jack Kelly," said Jack as he spat in his hand an' held it out. She looked at in shock, and the boys looked worried that they had picked up some "hoity-toity", but just as Jack was about to put his hand down, she spit into her hand without a thought and shook his hand.

The boys grinned and then Race stepped up. "I'se is Racetrack Higgins." They repeated the spit shake.

"Mush Meyers."

"Kid Blink." Sketch scowled at him but smirked and spit shook.

She also met Boots, Skittery, Snitch, Specs, Crutchy and two brothers. David Jacobs, who seem like a nice boy, just a bit nervous, and Les Jacobs. The latter was the one who had knocked hers down.

"I'se is real sorry Mis Sketch!" apologized Les. She smiled and shook her head. To show she had forgiven him, she produced a licorice stick. His eyes lighted up and he took it.

Jack stepped up with the boy from earlier and said, "Sketch, this is Spot Conlon. He's-"

"I already know who he is," interrupted Sketch, waving a hand, "Chu're da new King o' Brooklyn." She gave them a look that said she'd explain it later.

"Anyways, see dat newsie ova dere?" asked Race. He pointed to a teen that had light brown hair, which was covered by a newsie hat. Sketch's eyes widened with recognition. "Dat's Spot's second. 'is newsie name is Hawk, but no one knows 'is real name."

"I do," she stated calmly. "I mean, I should, I grew up around 'im."

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Plz R&R


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